Poema #1

The question of who I was consumed me.

I became convinced I should not find the image

of the person that I

 was: Seconds passed. What rose to the surface in me

plunged out

of sight again. And yet I felt

the moment of my first investiture

was the moment I began to represent myself—

the moment I began to live—by degrees—second by

second—unrelentingly—Oh mind what you’re doing!—

do you want to be covered or do you want to be seen ?—
And the garment — how it becomes you!—starry

with the eyes of

others,

weeping —

JORIE GRAHAM “Notes on the Reality of the Self”, Materialism